


Waiting for Wonderful

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bachelorette Party, Best Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry dances to Beyonce, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Pining, Sexuality, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Strip Tease, adjustment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: The university class where he met Louis was the beginning of the end for Harry. It took all of an hour for him to figure out that he was in love with Louis, and there was no way around it. It was a part of his DNA; he was tall, he had green eyes, and he was in love with Louis Tomlinson. Louis was his soulmate, and they were going to be together. Eventually.Harry is willing to wait as long as he needs to for his best friend to realise that they're supposed to be together, but it kills him to watch Louis struggle in his relationship with Mackenzie. All Harry wants to do is be supportive, and sometimes that's all it takes.





	Waiting for Wonderful

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by Harry's song Woman and I had the makings of this idea forever ago. It started out as a very sexy pwp and then somewhere along the way their feelings took over and then it just turned into a big ball of feelings.
> 
> Thank you to the other authors in the challenge!
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Harry watched from across the room as Mackenzie fell into Louis’ lap gracefully as if she did it every day, which she probably did.

“Alright, so tell me this,” Niall began from his place next to Harry on the couch, “How does that not bother you?” He nodded in the general direction of the overly occupied arm chair Harry had just been studying.

“It just doesn’t,” Harry replied. He didn’t have a better answer than that. Granted, that answer wasn’t necessarily honest, but the complete truth was a little more complicated.

Louis and Harry met the first day of their second year of uni, walking into a Music Theory class that was full to the brim. Harry watched as students gathered in clumps on the lecture hall risers, smirking to himself. The reason the department overbooked this class was because most students who signed up didn’t know what they were in for. Harry had been exposed to music theory his whole life, so _he_ knew that it was incredibly technical, but a lot of students, first years especially, thought it would be an easy ride talking about music.

Basking in his little holier-than-thou moment, he scanned the room. There was another student up on the top level with him leaning against the back wall, similar smirk playing across his features. Fuck, he was beautiful. He had a baseball cap on but the ends of his hair were peeking out the back, and they looked soft against his hoodie.

His body was lithe, but compact. Harry’s eyes traveled down the front line of his chest and hips, broken up only by the large cup of coffee in his hand. No, wait. He noticed the telltale string and paper tab hanging down the cup. Tea.

They made eye contact, the stranger - Louis - approached him, and in mutual respect, they decided to sit together so they could properly laugh as the easy-ride students slowly began to understand what the class would entail.

That class was the beginning of the end for Harry. It took all of an hour for him to realise that he was in love with Louis, there was no way around it. It was a part of his DNA; he was tall, he had green eyes, and he was in love with Louis Tomlinson. Louis was his soulmate, and they were going to be together. Eventually.

There were a few obstacles in their way. Namely, the fact that Louis was straight. Harry knew that sexuality was fluid, and Louis had checked him out one too many times playing shirts and skins in pick up footie games (Harry was always skins as he had a propensity for nudity), so he really didn’t think that was as big an issue as everyone else did.

The second more difficult obstacle was Mackenzie. She and Louis began dating the year after they left uni. They had all been out of uni for a few years, so she definitely was in it for the long haul. Louis had always talked about wanting to settle down and start a family - hell, that was part of the reason Harry so strongly believed that they were soulmates (a small part, but it was still a piece of the puzzle). But, no matter how long Louis and Mackenzie were together, he had never mentioned marrying her. Not once.

That was where Harry’s hopes laid. He _knew_ Louis, they were best friends, had been best friends since day one. If Louis wanted to marry Mackenzie, he would not be able to shut up about it. For awhile Harry thought Louis might know how gone Harry was for him, and was trying to spare his feelings, but Niall mentioned once that Louis had never talked to him about it either, so Harry really didn’t think he was aware.

So, Harry waited. He would continue to wait for as long as it took. Deep in his bones he knew that he and Louis would be together, which gave him all the patience in the world. No one would ever be enough for him after knowing Louis, and Louis was worth the wait.

Harry didn’t really get jealous of Mackenzie in the general sense. Watching her kiss Louis was a little bit painful because she knew what Louis’ lips felt like, and what his skin tasted like, while Harry didn’t. But he also knew that he would learn at some point. He had to believe that for his own sanity.

His close friends; his roommate Niall, and Louis’ roommate Liam both knew, and his sister knew, but aside from them, he kept his secret close, guarded. He _knew_ it sounded crazy - who just waits for someone they think is their soulmate? That made him selective about who he told.

Niall’s scepticism was ultimately what made him ask the question, and that was why Harry’s answer was complicated. Louis and Mackenzie didn’t bother him, because she was temporary.

Niall studied him for a moment as the party continued to ebb and flow around them. “Look, Harry. I’m going to level with you,” his tone was serious, which didn’t sound quite right coupled with his usually very easy going personality. “I thought the ‘waiting around for Louis’ thing was adorable the first year, I admired your control the second year, but it’s been three and a half years now.”

“I haven’t been living like a monk, Niall, I’ve slept with people. I’m not going proper virginal on him.”

“Maybe a handful of people in that time, but you haven’t been in a relationship or anything.”

Harry shrugged, “That’s for Lou.”

Niall studied him again. Finally, as if he had decided something, he sighed and patted Harry’s knee as he lifted himself off the couch. “Alright, mate.”

Harry stayed on the couch by himself for a minute, eyes making their way back to where Louis and Mackenzie were still in the chair talking to their friend Jade. Louis had his hand on Mackenzie’s back steadying her, and they were chatting happily until Jade pointed back and forth between the two of them. Mackenzie continued on laughing, but Harry saw Louis stiffen and watched as his facial muscles pinched for a split second before he pasted on a much faker smile instead.

Uh oh. Something just happened.

Mackenzie was also beginning to realise how uncomfortable Louis was, and her smile slowly began to dim as well.

Louis looked around the room for a moment. Harry could tell he was looking for a way out. His eyes locked on Harry’s just like they had that day in Music Theory when they first met, but this time the look he was sending Harry was pure desperation.

Harry immediately vaulted off the couch to go across the room. Jade sensed him as he approached and turned to smile up at him.

“Hello ladies, can I refresh your drinks?” Neither one of the ‘ladies’ was holding a drink, so as excuses went it was pretty weak, but it was all he could come up with in the five seconds it took him to cross the room.

“I’ll help, Hazza,” Louis exclaimed, dislodging Mackenzie from his lap.

“G&T for me, babes,” Jade chimed in while Mackenzie drained her beer, handing the empty bottle to Louis.

The two of them left the girls behind and took off for the kitchen. As soon as they crossed the threshold into the more peaceful space, Louis made a beeline for the refrigerator, hiding himself under the guise of digging for another beer.

“What’s wrong, Lou?” Louis’ whole body stopped. While Harry really didn’t mind the unobstructed view of his truly otherwordly arse, something was wrong and Louis needed help. Whatever Louis needed, he was there.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Bullshit.”

Louis snapped his head up at Harry’s sharp tone. He waited for a beat, then two, before he completely deflated, letting the fridge door swing closed behind him. When Louis was upset, he didn’t like to speak directly to Harry. Harry’s theory was that it made him feel too vulnerable. They had invented a number of ways of dealing with this; they would both lie down next to each other so he could confess to the ceiling, or they would sit side by side on the couch so he could confess to the TV. Neither one of those would work with fifty extra people in their flat, so Harry decided to go with the classic.

Two long strides had him wrapping Louis up in his arms, so Louis could confess to his shoulder instead.

“What’s wrong, Lou?” Then he waited.

It took a few minutes before Louis began to speak softly, whispering to Harry about how Mackenzie had been hinting for months about wanting to get married. Harry’s heart clenched, but he sensed there was more to the story, so he waited.

Louis took a deep shuddery breath before he explained to Harry that he had been feeling really trapped in the relationship lately, and all this talk of marriage always made his throat tighten up and made him want to rip all his clothes off and go running through the streets, but Mrs. Rabinowitz downstairs might not appreciate that.

When he finally ran out of words and his heart rate had calmed down where Harry could feel their chests pressed together, Louis took a step back, but didn’t move out of Harry’s space.

“But it’s been almost four years, Hazza.” His voice was so small and vulnerable.

Harry was torn. He wasn’t completely unbiased, so it was hard to step back and give him advice. But, he reasoned with himself, even if he _was_ unbiased, it still would sound like Louis was unhappy in his relationship.

“I think it sounds like you need to have a talk with Mackenzie. Make sure both of you know exactly what you want out of the relationship. Otherwise this is just going to eat away at you.” He couldn’t help himself, and he reached his hand up to brush Louis’ fringe out of his eyes. “How many drinks have you had?”

“We’ve both only had one beer.”

“Good,” Harry nodded. “Maybe you should take her downstairs so you guys can have some privacy.” I’ll make sure Liam stays up here, or goes somewhere else tonight, he added with a wink.

Louis chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes taking some cleansing breaths. “Yeah, okay.”

Harry watched him leave the kitchen with a sense of determination.

 

**Six Months Later**

“Haz-za, Haz-za, Haz-za,” Louis pounded rhythmically on Harry’s locked bedroom door as he studied the painted wood grain.

It was Saturday afternoon which meant Harry had most likely locked his door so he could work on his article that was due on Tuesday because he knew he would be too hungover to write tomorrow.

Louis bounced on the balls of his feet. They would be hungover, because it was Harry’s sister Gemma’s hen do tonight. Well, it was her and Niall’s joint stag and hen do, which basically meant they had rented out the private room of their favourite bar and were just having a big party.

Something unpleasant clenched in his gut when Louis thought about going over to pick up Mackenzie at her flat.

Before he had a chance to dwell on it, Harry’s door flung open; he was pouting and it was beyond adorable. Louis loved when Harry pouted; his eyebrows drew together over his nose and his bottom lip pooched out a bit.

“Chin up, love!” Louis said cheerily, just to see the pout deepen.

“No. Go away.” Harry grumbled before turning around and walking back into his room, door wide open in invitation.

“C’mon, Harry. Best get used to it. Wouldn’t want to upset your new brother-in-law,” Louis teased, closing the door behind him again, shutting out the rest of the world so it was just him and Harry. He needed to make sure that for all his talk Harry was actually comfortable with this.

Five months ago, Harry’s roommate Niall had come to Harry asking his permission to propose to Gemma. Niall and Gemma had been together for quite awhile, but had done their best to keep their relationship private enough that they didn’t make Harry uncomfortable.

Harry had said no, but followed it up by explaining that Gemma would kill him if he said yes, and would kill Niall for asking anyway, so it didn’t matter how he answered.

Harry really did love that the two of them were together because they were “some of his favourite people” he just didn’t always want to see it happen. That was how Harry had explained it countless times to Louis, but he was extra grumpy today, so maybe his opinion had changed.

Louis leaned his back against the door he had just closed and watched as Harry puttered around the room, stripping his shirt off as he went, pulling a few outfit options out of his closet for the party.

“Hazza, you really are okay with this, right?” Louis asked, tone as serious as he could make it. Harry turned, and Louis watched as the muscles of his torso contracted under his skin. Harry had a large butterfly tattoo right under his sternum, and two laurel leaves inked into the cut lines of his pelvis, and it was mesmerizing to watch the drawings move with his muscles.

Harry’s expression softened when he saw that Louis’ level of concern. “Yeah, of course, Lou. I love Niall, and I’m contractually obligated to love Gemma; I’m glad they’re together. It’s just a bit weird.”

Harry went back to digging into the depths of his closet.

“What are you looking for, Haz?” Louis asked. Harry had plenty of clothes he could wear, he looked amazing in anything. It was quite unfair, really.

“I don’t know, I’m trying to get inspired, want to look good.” Harry mumbled to himself as he continued to dig. Harry didn’t try to pull very often when they went out; occasionally Harry would snog someone, but Louis wasn’t sure it ever went much beyond that which made him wonder what was different about tonight.

Louis didn’t always know what Harry did when he wasn’t around, but something about Harry bringing people home didn’t sit well with him. He always just chalked it up to being protective of his best friend who was soft and lovely and entirely too trusting.

Louis shrugged off the itch that had taken residence under his skin and flopped onto Harry’s bed.

“Comfortable, Lou?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrow at Louis’ prone position. Just as Louis was about to respond, his phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans.

_When are you coming over?_

Louis sighed.

 _Soon. W/ hazza right now_.

He put tucked his phone away again and looked up to find Harry staring at him with his arms crossed over his bare chest. “Who was that?” Harry asked, attempting to be nonchalant.

“Mackenzie. I’ve got to go pick her and her friends up,” he replied.

“Right. Forgot they were coming.” Harry nodded, avoiding Louis’ eye.

“It was nice of Niall and Gemma to invite her friends.” Louis tread carefully. Ever since the party six months ago when he had confessed how scared he was of the marriage Mackenzie was hinting at, Harry had been a little cold to her. He had always been fine before, but now he was… civil. Civility should be enough, but it was a little less friendly than he used to be and it was a bit awkward for Louis when they were all together.

Harry hummed noncommittally.

Louis pushed himself off of Harry’s incredibly soft, comfy duvet. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” He leaned over and popped a kiss onto Harry’s cheek.

Harry continued to stare at him, brows furrowed again, before a smile broke across his face and he nodded at Louis. “Yeah, see you then.”

With another little wave, Louis let himself out of Harry’s room and down the hall to the front entrance.

“Bye, Lou!” Niall called from his side of the flat.

“See you, Niall!” And just like that he was back out in the November rain.

Mackenzie’s flat was only a few minutes walk away from Harry’s, so Louis hunched his shoulders against the light sprinkle and continued down the street.

Six months ago when Harry confronted Louis about his somber mood, which lead to the discussion of his relationship with Mackenzie, Louis didn’t expect the final outcome of the evening. Standing in the middle of the kitchen feeling safe and loved wrapped up in his best friend’s arms, he thought for sure he was on the brink of ending his four year relationship.

Louis had taken Harry’s advice and brought her downstairs where they had a long talk, and he explained everything he was feeling when she brought up marriage. When he thought about it himself, it sounded like he wasn’t committed to them and their relationship after four years, so he expected her to cry, scream, punch him, anything. But she did nothing.

Initially, she had been thrown off, but eventually she backtracked, saying that she had thought they were on the same page, and she didn’t mind waiting as long as he wanted if it meant they could be together.

Stunned at her understanding, Louis agreed, and they decided to make it work. They were being adults, taking an adult step in their adult relationship. He should have been proud of himself, of them as a couple, instead he just felt coiling uncertainty.

Over the last few months they had stayed the course. Then, when Niall proposed, everything became focused on him and Gemma, and it made it even easier for Louis to not concentrate on his own relationship.

The rain started to pick up a bit, and Louis increased his speed as he rounded the corner of Mackenzie’s street where she lived with a few of her friends from uni. When Louis had been looking for a new flat, he and Mackenzie had only been together for about a year so it was too soon (in his eyes) for the two of them to move in together. He moved in with Liam, she moved in with her friends, Harry and Niall found a flat nearby the next year, and they all landed within walking distance of each other.

Once he was in her foyer he shook some of the excess water off of himself, and rolled his lips together where he could still feel the warmth of Harry’s skin and slight - very slight - roughness from the stubble along his jaw. He chuckled to himself thinking about Harry trying to pick out an outfit that was both sexy enough to pull _and_ weather appropriate.

He really hoped Harry would be okay tonight. This joint stag/hen do was the first time anything even remotely wedding related was happening, and at least to Louis that meant it was actually beginning to feel real.

Louis leaned on Mackenzie’s buzzer, and only had to wait a few moments before she piped through the speaker; “Don’t bother coming up, we’ll be down in a second!”

That meant Louis had at least five minutes to kill, so he plopped down on the stairs and pulled out his phone.

Ten minutes later there was a flurry of movement and sound as Mackenzie and her roommates came down the final staircase from their flat.

“So we’ll stay for an hour, yeah? Before we head out to Caroline’s.” Louis could identify Mackenzie’s voice, but surely she couldn’t be serious.

Her smile brightened when she saw Louis, and she leaned over to give him a poorly aimed peck on the lips, her nude lip gloss leaving a print on the corner of his mouth and cheek.

Her friends were thankfully already on their way out the door, so he held her back a moment. “Um, Kenz,” he started, confused, “What do you mean you’re going to leave after an hour?”

“Well, it’s not really our crowd, is it?” She replied, batting her lashes at Louis like she didn’t know how problematic her statement really was.

“Not our crowd?” He asked, incredulous, “Niall is one of my best friends, and Gemma is practically my sister. Tonight is kind of important and I’d really like you to stay.”

She studied him for a moment, before she leaned over to kiss him fully on the lips this time. A proper kiss. With heavy, sticky gloss that tasted like artificial vanilla.

“How about we see how we feel after an hour? I don’t want to force Chels and Annie to stay if they really don’t want to.” She patted his arm placatingly, but it only served to further set his teeth on edge.

“Fine, yeah. Sure.” He replied, not wanting to make the argument into something bigger than it already was.

They piled into a taxi, and Louis ended up squished against the window, but he gave the driver the address to Niall’s favourite pub, and they were on their way.

 

Thirty minutes later, Louis was nursing a beer, shoved into a corner booth with Harry who was sipping his third amaretto sour of the evening.

Despite leaving Mackenzie’s flat relatively on time, their group were some of the last people to arrive, and Harry’s personal celebrations were already well underway.

Harry must have found what he was looking for after Louis left his flat, because he had showed up to the party looking like sex on a stick, in Louis’ humble opinion. His shirt was black and sheer, and his pants looked like they had been painted on. His boots were sleek and black with lots of buckles, and his hair was down and loose floating around his ears, chestnut curls puffed up with the humidity caused by all of these bodies filling up a confined space.

Louis leaned over so that Harry would be able to hear him when he spoke, and Harry mirrored his position by leaning even further into Louis’ body. “Enjoying yourself, Hazza?” He asked.

Harry shifted away, slightly, gaze lingering on the different groups of people spaced around the upstairs bar. Instead of answering, he turned to Louis, eyes bright, and nodded.

Louis couldn’t tamp down his own answering grin. Harry was so enthusiastic about things, and Louis really loved that about him. Louis knew himself, knew he could be a brat, and a handful sometimes, but purely through his own joy, Harry always managed to goad him into enjoying things he had every intention of hating.

Harry downed the dregs of his amaretto sour, and nodded to the half empty pint glass in Louis’ hands. “Come on, Lou. You have to catch up,” he winked before standing up to return to the bar.

Louis didn’t want to drink too much tonight, so he watched him go without asking for his own refill.

Normally, he would be all over a stag do, but the tiff he had with Mackenzie had set him on edge, and he didn’t want to drink too much and say something that he would regret later. If she and her friends really did leave early, he might consider indulging a little more.

Louis wasn’t sure what it said that he was monitoring his alcohol consumption based on her presence, so he shrugged it off. It was just easier to not get rip-roaring drunk.

The volume of the music ticked up a notch as Louis searched the area for Harry’s curls - they were easy to spot in a crowd. It looked like Harry had been waylaid and was standing exactly halfway between the bar and their booth talking to Niall and Gemma, who both looked radiant.

They were joking about something, and Louis thought about getting up to join them, but it was nice to just sit back and watch them interact. They would all be family soon, even though they basically were already. He was happy for Niall and Gemma. Marriage, kids, house in the suburbs - he wanted all of that, always had. He and Harry had talked about it before, he and his mum had talked about it before, but Louis had no idea why he was dragging his own feet about it with Mackenzie when she had made it perfectly clear that she was ready as well.

Louis tracked Harry’s movements as his lanky limbs were finally pointed in the direction of the bar again. He watched as Harry popped his hip out and leaned on the bar enticingly, flirting with the very attractive male bartender.

From the way the bartender had been eyeing Louis’ younger sister Lottie where she was sitting up front with her own friends earlier, he definitely wasn’t interested in Harry, but he also wasn’t immune to the old Styles charm either.

While Harry was waiting for his drink he leaned over to tug on one of Lottie’s platinum blonde waves, and Louis giggled as he watched her bat Harry’s hand away good naturedly. Their families had gotten close over the years by virtue of Louis and Harry being such good friends and drawing the two groups together. Harry had always wanted a bigger family, and loved Louis’ siblings more than anything.

The bar was quite busy, so Harry continued to wait, but was now ensnared in the conversation Lottie and her friends were having. Louis was content to sit back and watch until Harry made his way back to him and their booth, but soon, the unmistakeable sound of Beyonce’s voice crooning; “ _Lemme hear you say ‘Hey, Ms. Carter…_ ’” cut through all of the conversations happening around the bar, and the whole party stopped.

Oh God. Beyonce. Louis went to get up, but Gemma, Niall, and Lottie immediately rounded on Harry first, along with the rest of the select few who knew the story. Poor Harry looked like a deer caught in the headlights, doe eyes blinking rapidly as people attacked him from all sides, pulling on his limbs, coaxing him to the middle of the room.

At the party they all threw to celebrate Harry and Niall’s graduation from uni, Harry had gotten blackout drunk and done an _actual_ strip tease, clothes off and everything, to a different Beyonce song, but “Partition” was arguably a much better song for that sort of thing. Louis had blacked out as well that night and didn’t remember any details, but plenty of other people did.

In the span of a few seconds as the intro was playing, Gemma and Niall collectively cleared off the small area that could be a dance floor and put a chair in the middle of it, still dragging Harry by the arm before he pushed him back into the chair. Louis had a perfect view of the proceedings, so he just leaned back with his pint to watch. Catching Harry’s eye and wiggling his eyebrows.

Louis knew Harry had a few drinks by now so he was probably feeling comfortably buzzed and a little more daring than normal, but he wasn’t sure Harry would actually go through with it or not. Harry _did_ like to be the center of attention sometimes; he could be kind of quiet, and never asked for the spotlight outright, but when he was in it, his cheeks would get pleasantly pink, his grin would spread, and his dimples would deepen.

Harry fell against the hard wooden back of the chair and put his hands up to cover his face as he shook his head back and forth.

Their sisters and Niall continued to encourage him, getting the whole party involved, while Louis counted the beats in his head - Harry was running out of time before the start of the next section.

Louis decided to try his hand at pushing Harry along. “Dance, Hazza!” He called out over the din.

Out of all the voices and ambient noises, when Harry heard Louis his head snapped up and he searched the crowd until he found him.

“ _Are you happy to be in Paris?_ " The girl’s voice in the song echoed throughout the room already more than a minute into the song. The next section would start any second, and Louis watched as Harry got a little glint of determination in his eye.

Harry broke their eye contact and lifted his glass to his lips; the muscles in his throat worked as he knocked back his new drink all in one go as if it was a shot.

Cheers rippled as the whole party began to catch on to his acquiescence. Lottie darted out to take the empty glass from Harry right as another voice in the recording called out “ _Drums_!” in the background, and the heavy bass line resonated, indicating Harry should start.

_Driver roll up the partition, please..._

Harry stood up and began to move his hips back and forth a bit to get into a groove with the song. Louis could see the hem of Harry’s shirt begin to lift up showing little hints of the pale skin of his abdomen above the tight waistband of his jeans.

Continuing to roll his hips Harry made his way around the back of the chair before resting his hands along the top of it. Just as Beyonce finished lamenting how long it took to get ready and the beat picked up, Harry let loose.

Harry kept his back straight as he leaned over the chair, sticking his arse out and swinging it back and forth. Louis had a view straight on so he couldn’t see Harry’s bum, but as he continued to dance, and all of Gemma’s friends continued to cheer, Louis’ limited view was enough.

It was enough to see Harry’s bouncy curls start sticking to his forehead. It was enough to see a little bead of sweat escape the curls at Harry’s temple and trail its way down to his sharp jaw line. It was enough to watch as another one of his precariously done up buttons shifted just so and lost the will to stay done - perfectly timed with Beyonce singing about her own popped buttons - exposing even more of the dewy skin of Harry’s chest.

It was enough that Harry never broke eye contact with Louis. At first it was funny, all one big laugh, but then Harry had stopped laughing and was dancing for real, and Louis had stopped laughing and begun to pay attention.

As much as Louis’ eyes darted away to various parts of Harry’s body, whenever he returned his gaze to Harry’s face, Harry was still looking at him with a dark kind of intensity that was very new. The stare was heavy and sensual, to the point where it was almost palpable. Louis could practically feel it settle onto his skin and light his body from within. He was overwhelmed by Harry’s attention, and had no idea what to do with it.

The song shifted in rhythm and tempo again, and Harry finally turned his back on Louis.

Louis let out a breath, easing some of the tension in his shoulders, not sure why but grateful for the reprieve from the heat of Harry’s stare.

Something he vaguely recognised as arousal tugged in the pit of his stomach as Harry looked back over his shoulder and reengaged eye contact with Louis once more before falling away so that he could look at Louis through his lashes and bite at his bottom lip.

Louis’ grip tightened on his pint glass as he thanked all that was holy that Harry was still fifteen feet away from him surrounded by at least thirty party goers. Louis didn’t know what Harry was playing at, but the hair stood up on the back of his neck and his mouth was dry as a desert.

The song faded out, and the tension eased on Harry’s face as everyone around him cheered and crowded around him. He was pushing at Niall’s shoulder, blaming him for having started this in the first place.

An ice cold drop of condensation fell from the outside of Louis’ pint glass onto his finger where his hand was still gripped tight enough for his knuckles to go unnaturally pale. The shock of it made Louis clear his throat and shift in his seat, but as he began to do that, he curled in on himself.

 _Holy shit_. He had been paying so much attention to Harry- he hadn’t realised- there was nothing about it that could be misconstrued- it was just the song…

His thoughts were racing and he was lying to himself. Nothing about his predicament could be blamed on the song. Nothing and everything all at once.

He had gotten hard. He was hard in his jeans. As if on cue, his cock throbbed where it lay trapped in the confines of the tight denim. Louis threw his head back against the cushion of the booth.

Harry and his little cock tease dance to Beyonce had done just that. Teased Louis to the brink. Louis squeezed his eyes shut as his subtly rolled his hips into the friction his jeans provided, praying that everyone else was too distracted to realise what was happening to him.

His skin felt too tight and hot all at once like he could combust and self destruct at any moment.

Sure, he had always noticed Harry’s body, but in a friend way. He was proud that his friend was a good looking guy. It was always nice to be surrounded by beautiful people.

Who was he kidding?

Louis snuck a glance at Harry where he was still being congratulated for his dance. His cheeks were flushed, his skin was still dewy, and his curls were pushed back like he had been running a hand through them. His lips were bitten and pink. Fuck, Harry was so beautiful.

It always took Mackenzie at least ten minutes in front of her vanity to make her lips look like that.

The blood pounding through Louis’ body froze.

Mackenzie.

As if his thoughts had summoned her, she came into his field of vision and plopped down onto the end of the corner booth seat, Chels and Annie not too far behind.

“What a laugh!” She grinned at him, nodding her head at Harry.

He grunted in response, and could feel, to his relief, that his dick was deflating a bit. And wasn’t that ten different kinds of twisted - he should not be relieved to be going soft around his girlfriend.

She leaned over and popped another kiss on his cheek which usually meant that she wanted something, or she was about to do something he wouldn’t appreciate.

“We’re going out front for a cigarette,” she nodded at her friends, “then we might head out.”

“Sounds good, yeah,” Louis nodded, anything to get rid of her. He could reconcile his annoyance later; right now he had way too many other issues on his mind.

Mackenzie and her friends took off down the stairs that led to the front of the pub and Louis stood up, pushing his way through the crowd so that he could escape to the bathroom and throw some cold water on his face.

That should definitely fix this. Right.

When he got back to the booth Niall was sitting there with a fresh pint for each of them. Louis really loved Niall. He slid back into the seat, but not quite as far into the booth as he had been before.

Niall pushed the pint across the table and nodded for Louis to take it but didn’t say anything. Louis sincerely hoped this was an indication that he would stay quiet and let him sit there and have his existential crisis in peace.

“What’s wrong with you, mate? Look like you seen a ghost.” Niall asked, with faux innocence. His baby blue eyes would not coax any answers out of Louis right now. They were known to do that in the past.

“It’s nothing,” Louis ground out.

“Suit yourself,” Niall shrugged as though he knew that it was not nothing, and knew exactly why.

Louis took a sip of his pint. His brain was swimming with thoughts that were coming out of nowhere. Thoughts of Harry laid out underneath him, calling out his name. Harry on his knees looking up at him with that same flush on his cheeks, lips a pretty petal pink, shiny from his tongue.

Louis pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes as though he could physically scrub his mind of these images.

God, he _wanted_. He wanted all of that so badly that he ached with it, but it was a lot to take in. He hadn’t ever given in to the deep dark corner of his brain where these thoughts were spilling from before.

He was Pandora and Harry was the tempting box. Louis had lifted the lid, and there was no way to take it back.

The worst of it was, though, that Harry was his best friend. Louis was having a crisis and he couldn’t talk to Harry about it. This was not a problem that could be fixed by lying down and confessing to Harry’s ceiling with their arms pressed together. Now all Louis wanted was for Harry to be moaning his name at the ceiling instead.

He dropped his face into his hands. “Oh God,” he groaned.

Niall reached over and patted Louis on the back. “It’s alright, Lou. It’ll be alright.”

“Niall, what do I do?” Louis pleaded. Niall had to know. That’s why he was over here talking to Louis. He knew and Louis didn’t have to explain, wasn’t forced to put big scary labels on the things he had only just learned about himself in the last ten minutes. He _knew_.

Louis really, really loved Niall.

Niall blew out a breath and looked at him, taking the time to actually consider the dilemma that lay unspoken on the scarred pub table in front of them.

“There are definitely two people you need to speak to, and they are both going to be difficult in different ways,” Niall began carefully.

Louis felt his shoulders slump as he reached for his pint glass to take a big sip.

“But, Lou. Can I offer you a piece of advice?” Louis just stared and waited for him to continue. “Right now, your future has two different paths. No matter what you choose, I’ll always support you, you know that, but it’s up to you to decide which future you like better. Which future you want. I can’t give you that answer, neither can Lottie, or Liam, or anyone. It’s a really big choice, so just take a day. Take a week. Think about it. Don’t make any rash decisions.”

Louis nodded. “Thanks, Ni.”

“Sure thing. Good luck.” He patted Louis on the back again before getting up and walking away towards where Gemma was sitting with her friends.

Niall leaned over, pressed a kiss to Gemma’s temple, and Gemma leaned into it, pressing further into Niall’s arms from where she was seated on the bar stool.

Louis wanted that. He wanted unconditional love and comfort like that, something subtle, but tangible. Someone to anchor him in this crazy world.

At their best, he really did feel that way with Mackenzie, but he hadn’t been feeling that as much lately. After their talk six months ago he thought they were back to being a little bit more in tune, and she had certainly laid off the marriage talk like she promised. They had been together for four years. That was a long time to love someone, and that love didn’t just go away.

But, he wasn’t sure the love he was feeling was the same love as when they just started out. It almost a sort of bizarre facsimile of what he used to feel.

And then there was Harry.

Louis shook his head. One hard dick to one strip tease didn’t make a lifelong commitment. Lifelong commitment came from knowing someone at their absolute worst and still sticking by them. It came from listening to them and being supportive, and knowing that big confessions were easier looking up at plastic stars that had lost their glow a long time ago.

When he really thought about it, the only thing missing from his relationship with Harry before had been sexual chemistry. Maybe it wasn’t missing, though. Based on tonight,  maybe Louis had just been ignoring it.

He had a lot to think about.

***

Harry giggled as Gemma pushed his shoulder, nudging him towards the stairs. His head was swimming a little from the alcohol, so she had convinced him to go with her to get some fresh air.

He agreed, but only because he was beginning to feel feverish after his dance. He groaned, thinking about it.

“Gem, how could you let me do that?” He asked the back of her head as she picked her way down the steps in her heeled boots.

“Come on, Harry. You loved it. Everyone else loved it. A good time had by all!” She said on a laugh. Her beer bottle was precarious in her hand as she continued to wobble.

“I could have done without embarrassing myself tonight,” he said under his breath.

“No one asked you to dance for Lou, you did that all on your own,” she snickered.

“Yeah, thanks,” he bit out.

Now that he was beginning to sober up - having started to sweat out much of the alcohol in his bloodstream - he could not believe he had done that.

If it had only been part of the dance, or if Louis had kept laughing, it may have worked. But Harry didn’t break eye contact, and Louis did stop laughing. He had watched Harry with such intensity and in the moment, Harry had basked in the attention. Harry didn’t care who watched, or which one of Gemma’s clueless friends now wanted his number, all he had cared about - all he ever cared about - was Louis.

Gemma pushed open the door of the pub and found an unoccupied space along the front brick wall for them to lean up against.

Harry closed his eyes and rested his head back against the brick.

“How are you doing, baby brother?” Gemma asked, her tone soft and concerned. Harry knew what she was really asking.

“Some days it’s just really hard, Gem.” He confessed, voice breaking a bit. “I know it’s selfish, I do. And I know he owes me nothing. But…” he trailed off, “Some days I watch him touch her, and I see him touch her skin, and all I can think about is how it would feel if that was me.” He finished on a whisper and reached up to wipe at the corners of his eyes. He was such a mess.

Gemma looked at him sympathetically, but didn’t say anything else, and Harry was grateful that she knew exactly what he needed. She turned away from him to lean up against the wall at his side.

They stayed like that in silence for a moment.

“Can I ask you something, H?” Her tone was cautious.

“Yeah.”

She paused before continuing as if she was trying to find the right way to form the sentence. “Do you think he knows how you feel about him?”

Harry turned the question over in his mind a few times. He thought about this a lot, and it bordered on its own kind of paranoia. There were days he was convinced Louis knew. Sure that at any moment Louis would knock on Harry’s door, say they couldn’t be friends any more, and that would be it. Harry was in constant fear of losing him, which was in no way fair to Louis. He would never do that to Harry and rationally, Harry knew that, but knowing didn’t mean the fear wasn’t there.

“No, I don’t think he does.” He finally said, letting it float into the night air. “It’s funny. I tell him I love him all the time, and he says it to me, but I don’t think he’s ever really listening. If he was listening, he would know.”

They lapsed into silence again, and Harry breathed the cool air into his lungs.

Their tranquility was interrupted by a peal of high-pitched laughter that emanated from around the corner of the alleyway next to the pub.

“Isn’t that-” Gemma began to ask, but Harry cut her off by putting his finger up to his lips. She looked at him, confused as to why they were hiding, but followed his direction anyway.  Mackenzie and her friends must be standing in the alley smoking.

“Kenz, what _are_ you going to do?” Harry thought that could be Chels, but to be honest he wasn’t really sure which friend was which, because they were always together.

“It’s three months until the lease is up, yeah?” Mackenzie’s voice was distinct among the three of them. “I can get him to propose by then.”

Harry’s muscles seized until he felt brittle, like one touch would send him shattering to the ground.

“...said he didn’t want…” Harry was having trouble making out what they were saying beyond his own laboured breathing. Based on her expression Gemma was beginning to understand what was going on as well.

“That’s what he said then, but it’s been six months, I still have another three. He’ll propose when he realises what he’s got to lose.”

Black spots were beginning to form at the edges of Harry’s vision, and for the first time in his life he felt himself fill with pure unadulterated rage.

“Make him propose just so you can move flats? Wow, Kenz.”

Mackenzie’s response was most likely non-verbal as Harry couldn’t hear anything until they all collapsed into a fit of laughter again.

Harry breathed deeply and slowly as he tried to stop the roiling in his gut. He vaguely became aware of Gemma’s death grip on his bicep as though she wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t either. Everything in him screamed to confront Mackenzie, but he held himself back. If he confronted her and she stayed in Louis’ life like she planned to, it would make things considerably more awkward.

When Louis had first started dating Mackenzie, Harry had vowed that he would never make Louis choose between the two of them. He never wanted to put his best friend in that kind of horrible position.

But...

She was _using_ him. Mackenzie was using Louis, Harry’s best friend and the theoretical love of his life.

She said nothing about love, about commitment, about how if she was within ten feet of Louis it was like the sun was shining and she could actually fully breathe again. Nothing.

She needed Louis for a fucking flat.

She was going to pressure Louis into making a decision he wasn’t ready for - one that she promised she wouldn’t force him to make - just because she was running out of time and didn’t want to find somewhere new.

Harry tried biting his lip, keeping his mouth firmly shut as he breathed through his nose in order to stay quiet. Gemma was a steadying presence next to him, but he wasn’t sure that would be enough.

Mackenzie, Chels, and Annie finally emerged from the alley lit from above by the old street lamp and the faded light shone on her perfect auburn hair, her shiny plastic nails, and her stylish outfit.

“Hey, Harry,” Mackenzie nodded to him and Chels and Annie mirrored her gesture bringing their hands up in a small wave. “Gems. Congrats, babe. Thanks for inviting us.”

Gemma hummed in response.

Harry saw red.

“How can you be so cruel?” He rasped, not able to find purchase with his own vocal cords.

Mackenzie’s eyebrows rose to her hairline, and she looked genuinely shocked. “What?”

He dug deep to strengthen his conviction and push beyond the fact that he was vibrating with nervousness at confronting her. “You. How can you do this?” He asked again.

“Harry, what are you talking about?” She replied, gaze darting between Harry and Gemma as though his sister might help her. Gemma stayed silent.

“You are with the most amazing man on the planet. And you want to what? Trap him? Make him propose? For a fucking flat?” He had shifted off the wall and was beginning to lean forward into her space. She was still an arms length away, but she looked as though he had slapped her.

It took her a few more heartbeats before she understood what Harry was saying, and almost immediately her demeanor shifted and she got very defensive.

“Were you _listening_ to our conversation? Are you twelve?” She spat out.

“All I did was stand here,” he could feel his voice rising in pitch and volume, knowing full well he sounded petulant. Now that he had given into the confrontation, the adrenaline in his blood was spiking. “I was standing here, when I heard you say that you were going to give Louis an ultimatum and basically force him to propose.”

“That was private!” Mackenzie cried. Chels and Annie were cowering behind her.

“That doesn’t fucking matter!” Harry yelled.

At this point they were beginning to attract a small audience, but Harry was on a roll and couldn’t be arsed to care.

Mackenzie paused and considered him before her gaze turned calculating, and she said the one thing capable of rendering Harry speechless. “You’re not mad, you’re jealous. You’ve been in love with him the whole time we’ve been together, if not longer.”

Harry’s whole body stiffened. If Mackenzie knew, then surely Louis did as well. He could have known the whole time, and just ignored it to spare Harry’s feelings.

“You thought I didn’t know?” She smirked at him, finally smug in the fact that she had the upper hand. That was the issue, though. As long as she was around, she had Louis. She had what Harry wanted most in the world. She would always have the upper hand.

“God, you’re so fucking obvious, Harry! You follow him around like a lost puppy.” Mackenzie kept twisting the knife of his own insecurities deeper, and Harry could feel the pinch of Gemma’s nails in the skin of his bicep where she had never let go of his arm. “He doesn’t want you. He wants me.”

Harry stayed silent for a moment. She was right. Even though Harry was sure in his belief that he would be with Louis one day, he still had an indefinite, indefinable amount of time between then and now.

They could get together in a year after Louis dramatically left Mackenzie at the altar. They could get together in five years after Louis did get married and realised it wasn’t for him. They could get together in twenty-five years after Louis and Mackenzie had a couple children, became empty nesters, and Louis went through a midlife crisis that landed him in Harry’s arms. Whenever they did, Harry knew it would be never ending friendship with soft, quiet mornings and cups of tea, it would be deep passion, it would be unconditional love.

But until then… maybe everyone was right and Harry really was being delusional.

He swallowed around the tears that he could feel beginning to burn at the backs of his eyelids. He would not cry in front of Mackenzie. He would not do it. He had too much pride.

“You’re right,” he said hoarsely in the tense stillness that had fallen between them. “Maybe Louis doesn’t want me around. If he doesn’t, he can tell me himself. But I’ll always love him. That will always be true. It’s not because I can parade him around on my arm as the fit and charming game-winning footie player who is also loving and kind. It’s not because I want a partner I can control and manipulate into giving me what I want. And it’s definitely not just because I want a new flat.”

Mackenzie stared at him blankly under the weight of his accusations, so he pressed on; “But what do I know? I’m only looking at your relationship from the outside in, so I can’t tell you what’s wrong or right. All that I can tell you for certain is how I would love Louis Tomlinson, and that is with every fibre of my being and then some because he deserves the whole fucking world.”

Gemma began to rub her hand on his shoulder, easing some of the half moon marks she herself had made, and he could feel her body tense, but he couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

“And as mad as I am, I’m still going to eventually come to you and ask for a truce. Because I still don’t want Louis caught in the middle of this. I may need a few days to calm down, but it will happen. What Louis and I have, our friendship, is none of your business. And honestly, the relationship that you have with him is really none of my business.”

As Harry drew in a deep breath, another voice cut in from somewhere over Harry’s right shoulder.

“You’re right. It’s not.” Louis was staring at both of them shrewdly as he leaned up against the doorway of the pub.

Harry recovered first; “Lou,” he choked out.

Louis ignored him and cut in front of Harry’s body to pull Gemma into a hug. “Thanks, Gems, I had a great time.”

Harry watched, helpless, as Gemma whispered something in Louis’ ear, and when Louis pulled away from her he gave her the barest of wry grins, and nodded. She reached a hand up and tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him on the cheek.

Even in the midst of Harry’s agonising limbo, his heart burst with affection at the idea that Louis had lived most of his life taking care of his own younger siblings. Harry would gladly offer him use of his own older sibling, if only it meant that Louis could feel taken care of every once in awhile.

“Lou,” Harry pleaded, without realising his mouth was moving, but again, Louis said nothing.

Louis placed a hand on Mackenzie’s elbow, before lifting his arm to hail one of the taxis idling down the block.

He addressed the group instead of replying to Harry directly; “I think I need to take Mackenzie home.”

The car came to a stop and Louis opened the backdoor, helping Mackenzie in before he realised that Chels and Annie were crowding the car as though they intended to get in as well.

Finally, his armor cracked. “No,” he held out a hand to stop them from getting in, “Can’t you tell we need some privacy right now? Please - I’m begging - detach for one moment.” The girls, startled by his tone, and most likely everything else that had happened in the span of the last ten minutes, backed away from the car quickly.

Louis climbed in, slammed the door shut behind him, and the taxi went speeding off into the night.

Harry watched the red lights for as long as he could, ignoring the world around him, before he remembered that there were at least three people waiting to see what his reaction was to everything that had happened. He spun back around and saw all three faces staring at him with varying degrees of concern.

Harry had no idea how much of their fight Louis had heard, but there was a very strong possibility that Louis was now aware of the fact that Harry was in love with him. The carefully constructed barricade Harry had built between Louis and the truth didn’t get dismantled organically brick by brick as Harry had always hoped, but in one crushing blow.

He sighed, pushing every last drop of oxygen out of his lungs before he spoke.

“I need a drink,” he croaked out.

“Done,” Gemma replied, putting her hand on his back. It was both comforting and protective - she was putting herself between Harry and the two girls who were now standing there alone on the sidewalk. “Whatever you need, baby brother,” she whispered for Harry’s ears alone.

He smiled at her, a meek watery grin of thanks, before the tears finally began to fall.

 

Twenty four hours. That was how long it had been since Harry last spoke to Louis outside the pub. He picked up his phone to text him half a dozen times, but never knew what to say.

He could apologise for confronting Mackenzie, but then he would need to acknowledge what was said during the course of the fight. And if Louis wasn’t already aware of what was said, Harry would be opening himself up to the possibility of having to confess all over again.

The first time during the fight he hadn’t been completely sober, and his body had been coursing with adrenaline. He wasn’t sure he could survive it a second time.

Harry toweled himself off after his shower and pulled on a fresh pair of joggers. He crossed the hall to his bathroom so he could deposit his towel and brush his teeth.

Weighted down by the sadness that only comes from having heavy thoughts on a Sunday with nothing to distract him, he climbed into bed.

Tomorrow was a bank holiday, so he was staring down the prospect of another day moping around his flat without Niall to keep him occupied. Stupid Niall wanting to stay with his stupid fiancée. Harry definitely should have put worms in her hair when she was nine like he wanted.

Harry sighed up at his ceiling where the glow in the dark stars had lost their glow. He reached over to blindly tap at his phone until he managed to put on his deep sleep playlist before he rolled over and attempted to lose himself to unconsciousness.

 

Hours later, something pulled at the edges of Harry’s sleep-hazy awareness. Warmth. Patches of warmth. Body heat. There was someone in bed with him.

Harry blinked a few times, attempting and failing to hold his eyelids open for long enough to get a grip on what was happening.

There was a small sniffle as the warmth spread and grew along his back where Louis was pressed up against him. Louis. It was Louis. Louis had gotten into bed with him.

Louis’ name echoed and ricocheted around in his brain, but sleep was tugging him down once again.

Louis’ touch just felt so good after such a drought. A whole day. Dream-weighted Harry laughed at how dramatic his subconscious was being. He would have a stern talk with his subconscious… in the morning…

That was all he remembered before the world went black once again.

 

When Harry woke up for real he burrowed into the warmth that Louis’ body provided. He loved when Louis stayed over, they always cuddled. It was their _thing_.

Alone in his wakefulness in the morning (because he was a morning person sometimes, and Louis was definitely not) he would let himself release the gates that held back his day dreams. He would let himself pretend that Louis was his, and there wasn’t anyone else he was holding this way. His warmth was just for Harry.

That thought brought him up short. He had been so wrapped up in Louis’ hug, he had forgotten that there was a reason they shouldn’t be cuddling in the first place.

Harry’s body tensed, but as he lay still, he listened for a change in Louis’ breathing. There wasn’t any, his light snores continued naturally, and Harry relaxed again. He ached with the need to look at Louis’ face, absorb every detail, not sure what his purpose was for being there with Harry, but he didn’t want to disturb Louis’ sleep.

The desire to see him won out, and Harry carefully lifted Louis’ arm up away from where it was wrapped around his waist, immediately missing the warmth and closeness it provided. Harry shifted his body in tiny little increments, until Louis’ socked feet came into view at the end of the bed sticking out from underneath Harry’s duvet. Emboldened by the sneak peek, Harry continued to shift carefully until he was on his back and then eventually his left side instead of his right.

The screen of Louis’ phone was lit up on the nightstand and Harry could just barely read the numbers over his shoulder. It looked like half five.

He laid his head back down on his pillow and finally lost himself in the vision that Louis’ face presented in front of him.

Louis’ angular cheekbones were inexplicably soft, and his stubble glinted a warm auburn colour in the dim half-light dawn. Even though he was sleeping, Harry could tell the past day had not been any easier on Louis than it had been on Harry. There was a telltale redness around his his bottom eyelashes; for as long and thick as they were, they couldn’t cover up the traces of his hurt.

Louis’ eyes shifted behind his lids, and he scrunched up his nose. He was beginning to wake up. He blearily squinted his eyes open, not quite aware of his surroundings.

Harry had no idea what Louis came here to say to him, he had no idea what Louis knew, where they stood as friends. He only knew that Louis needed to sleep. In sleep, Louis’ shoulders let go of their tension, and he could relax without pressure from the world around him pressing down relentlessly. That was all Harry wanted for him.

In a fit of bravery, and cowardice, if he was being honest about his desire to avoid the conversation they needed to have, Harry reached out and combed his fingers through the soft fluffy hair above Louis’ ear.

“Shh, Lou. Go back to sleep,” Harry whispered, hoping he would follow the directive.

Soon, Louis’ breath was evening out again, and Harry pulled his hand away. His muscles were sore with the way he held them back; he wanted nothing more than to leave his hand where it was, combing through Louis’ hair, soothing him.

But, he still didn’t know why Louis was there.

 

Two hours later, Harry had scrolled through his Instagram feed, and his need to relieve himself was too urgent for him to ignore. He slipped out from under the covers with the same care and incremental shifting he had employed before. He was being incredibly stealthy, until he got halfway to his door and tripped on one of Louis’ trainers.

“Fuck!” He hissed out. Realising he swore out loud, he froze and listened to make sure he hadn’t woken Louis up.

Coast clear, Harry crossed the hall to his toilet, and took a moment to go about his usual morning business. He was halfway through brushing his teeth when a harsh, flat, quack cut through the noise of the running water.

 _Shit_. Louis had set Harry’s text ringtone as that stupid duck call ages ago, but like any good millennial, Harry almost never had his texts on full volume. The only reason he had this weekend, was because he wanted to make sure he would be able to hear from any corner of his flat if Louis texted him and he wasn’t near his phone.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his back against the open door, foam dripping down onto his bare chest. He heard the rustling of his duvet.

Louis was definitely awake now.

Harry took extra care in finishing his routine, prolonging the inevitable.

Taking a few deep breaths, he crossed back over into his bedroom and stood in the doorway. It almost felt like he was waiting for permission to enter his own bedroom.

Louis had pulled the duvet up to cover his body until just his nose and the top of his head were sticking out. His eyes were wide as he turned to where Harry was standing.

“You can get back in bed,” he whispered, voice raspy with sleep still. “Please?” Harry had been wary until that last little plea. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

He rounded the end of his bed and pulled back the duvet on his own side. His chest ached with the idea that he and Louis had sides of the bed, but in a matter of moments that could all be taken away from him.

Louis very well could be here to tell Harry that he was staying with Mackenzie to propose, get married, and he could never see Harry again. Or something equally devastating.

When Harry settled back down, Louis cleared his throat and then… didn’t say anything. Harry was doing his best to not interfere, but he would love it if Louis could move the conversation along. Now that Harry had psyched himself up enough to have it, he wanted to rip the band aid off.

“I heard the whole fight,” Louis said, his voice clear and strong. He was talking to Harry’s plastic stars, but it still cut Harry like a knife.

He knew. Louis _knew_.

Harry began to breathe heavily as his heart rate picked up.

“I took Mackenzie back to her flat so we could talk. We mostly yelled, though,” Louis added calmly. He paused before continuing, “You were right. She did want me to propose for all the wrong reasons. She wanted a husband she could drag along to events with her friends, and a new flat,” he finished on a humorless laugh. “Can you believe I was that gullible?”

“Yes,” Harry whispered. “You love her.” It killed him to admit it, but he knew it was true.

“Maybe… I think when we first started out, yeah, I did. But, somewhere along the way it faded and became comfortable? Routine? I don’t know.” Louis sighed heavily.

Harry’s eyes traced the same patterns between the stars that they always did whenever he and Louis talked like this. It helped ground him, which he needed more than anything right now.

“Do you know what was missing with Mackenzie?” Louis asked. Harry wasn’t sure if Louis was actually asking him or if it was a rhetorical question. He was trying to pay attention and listen to what Louis was saying, but all that kept running through his head was _Louis knows. Louis knows. Louis knows._

When Louis didn’t continue, Harry hummed questioningly, not trusting himself to open his mouth fully. If he did, surely he would say something stupid and disrupt Louis’ sense of tranquility.

“Depth.”

Of all the things Louis could have said, that was probably the most surprising.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“It was like all the regular feelings were there; love, comfort, trust, whatever. Everything a relationship normally has, but it was all surface level. As soon as I realised there could be so much more, that wasn’t enough.” Louis stopped talking, but it felt like there was so much left he had to say.

Harry swallowed against the dryness in his throat. “How did you realise there could be more?”

The implication was there, but Harry couldn’t let himself hope. His tear ducts began to burn again as he felt moisture build at the outside corners of his eyelids. He would hold in his tears, he would be supportive, no matter what Louis said. He could _do_ this. Louis was his best friend.

Instead of answering, Louis began to shift his body, rolling onto his side facing Harry. Harry could barely breathe, much less turn and face him, but Louis waited.

When Harry turned over Louis smiled and lifted his hand up to push Harry’s stray curls out of his face.

“When I really understood how I felt about you,” Louis whispered breathlessly as though he didn’t want to interrupt the moment. But what he was saying _did_ interrupt the moment, it did, because it was everything to Harry.

Harry tried to remain collected on the surface, but he felt like his skin was drawn tight, too small to contain everything that he was feeling. “And how is that?”

Louis looked Harry dead in the eye and said, on no uncertain terms, “I love you.” As soon as he said it, his gaze searched Harry’s to gauge his reaction. When Harry didn’t immediately react, he continued; “I’m in love with you. It took a lot for me to get here, but I’m here now, and I’d really love if you would give me a chance to show you we could be more than we are.”

“Give you a chance?” Harry asked, incredulously.

“Um, yes?” Louis was nervous, Harry could tell. He had nothing to be nervous about, but Harry was still in shock and all he wanted to do was reassure Louis but he couldn’t get the words out.

The vulnerability in Louis’ eyes was enough to snap Harry out of it and bring him back to the moment.

“God, Louis, you can have all the chances, every single one,” Harry rushed out.

Louis began to grin, and he kept grinning until there were crinkles by his eyes, and Harry could feel the relief rolling off of him in waves. He reached up to play with Harry’s curl again, but this time he buried his hand in Harry’s hair instead of pulling away.

They sat like that, smiling at each other like idiots, before Louis got impatient, and Harry could feel him tug where his hand was still buried in Harry’s hair. He tugged a little harder until Harry gave in and leaned forward, bringing their lips together.

Louis’ mouth was slick from where he had been licking his lips out of nervousness, and it made the taste of him deeper, richer.

Harry was so focused on how good he tasted, it took him a moment for it to fully connect that he was kissing Louis. He was _kissing_ Louis. His best friend, who he had always been in love with. Louis was kissing him. Louis who as of twenty four hours before had a long term girlfriend.

That thought brought Harry up short as questions began to fly through his head at a rapid pace. Rebound. Experiment. He didn’t want to be any of those things to Louis. He wanted everything with Louis; marriage, children, the whole lot.

Harry gently brought his hand up to push Louis away.

Louis looked at him, startled. “Holy shit.”

“What, Lou?” Harry asked.

Louis blushed, “Oh um, nothing. It’s just, like, I’ve always wondered how that felt, you know… with you.” He looked a bit sheepish, and so adorable.

Harry groaned and rolled back over onto his back, covering his eyes with one hand. He couldn’t look at Louis so cosy in his bed - wearing his clothing, soft and cuddly and in love - without wanting to dive right in head first and not consider the consequences.

“Hazza? What’s wrong?” Louis asked, voice heavy with concern.

“You. This. All of it.” Harry groaned again.

“Was it not good?”

“Of course it was good, Lou. It was amazing. I want nothing more than to kiss you forever. But, how long is forever? I don’t want to be a rebound for you, or an experiment, or revenge, or take your pick,” Harry replied.

Louis didn’t say anything for a long time, and Harry didn’t think he would be able to look at him without giving in, losing himself in Louis’ taste again, so he barrelled through.

“And like, after the fight and you heard everything, you know what Mackenzie knows, what she guessed, and this would be a great way to get back at her. Do exactly what she said would never happen.” Harry began to trace the pattern in the stars with his eyes again.

“Do you really think I would do something like that?” Louis asked, voice small.

Harry sighed, “Of course not, Lou, but when have I ever been rational when it comes to you?” He threw his hands up towards the ceiling and let them fall back down on the coverlet.

Again, Louis stayed quiet for a moment. “I had decided that I needed to break up with Mackenzie before I even came downstairs that night.”

Harry rolled that thought over in his head for a moment, trying to make sense of it.

“You what?”

“Harry, look at me please,” Louis pleaded. Reluctantly, Harry turned his head on the pillow and Louis maintained eye contact with him as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That night, when you danced, you were so amazing and free and sexy, and all of a sudden I was sitting there and I was hard and I had no idea what to do because I had never let myself feel that physical attraction to you before.”

Louis’ cheeks were dusted with another dose of pink as he continued. “I’ve always loved you, but I thought it was just as a best friend. I had this _thing_ that I never told anyone about, where I just like always knew we would stay together. Whenever I saw my future, you were in it and I thought it was a best friend thing. But then, the other night, all of a sudden I was letting myself be physically attracted to you and I couldn’t hide it away any more. So what if it’s more? I couldn’t let myself fester in that relationship when you were there, loving me from afar better than she ever did.”

Harry’s emotions warred within him; Louis was saying all the right things, but part of him still worried.

“But, Lou, are you ready for this? Are you ready to jump right in with me? Because I’ve always wanted to be with you, and I won’t settle for half arsed. I will wait as long as you need me to if it means I get to have anything with you.”

Louis shook his head violently, rustling the cotton of the pillowcase. “No, Harry. You don’t get it. You are everything. You’re it. As a best friend, you loved me, even when it was difficult for you. Always. I feel like I’ve been such an idiot for not seeing what was right in front of me.”

It was then that it occurred to Harry; he was never going to know if he and Louis were a sure thing or not. Nothing was going to let him see the future. He was going to have to either go for it or not, which meant he needed to trust Louis, or not. And since the first day Harry met him, there had never been a time where he didn’t trust Louis.

He wasn’t sure how to truly express the overwhelming relief surging inside of him, so he dove forward, capturing Louis’ mouth again. Louis leaned into it, letting Harry take control.

Harry broke away to breathe, “I love you, so much,” he said as he finally let the tears fall.

“Fuck, Harry. I love you too,” Louis reached up to wipe Harry’s tears away with his thumb. “I don’t ever want you to hurt again,” he whispered.

Instead of going back to kissing him, Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, drawing him into a hug. They laid like that for minutes, hours, Harry had no idea. Eventually they shifted so that Harry was on his back, and Louis was curled into his side, idly rubbing his hand on Harry’s chest, talking. Talking about the feelings that had always been lurking under the surface, going back over their vast history together.

They talked themselves hoarse, and when they couldn’t talk any more, Louis lifted his head from Harry’s chest and they came together again.

Harry finally let himself get lost in Louis’ kiss, finally let himself accept that this, whatever this was, was real. They were lying in his bed and Louis was kissing him, sharing himself with Harry. When the kiss began to get more heated, Louis lifted himself up so that he was lying on top of Harry’s body and they were perfectly aligned. Harry reached his hand up under the hem of Louis’ jumper to trace the golden skin of his back.

Each new freedom Harry allowed himself, kissing, touching, basking, let loose another little piece of doubt. He couldn’t believe that he had waited to be with Louis for so long that he hadn’t been prepared for the actual eventuality of them being together.

Soon he could feel that Louis was getting harder in his joggers, and not wanting to rush things, Harry held himself back. But Louis was persistent, doing everything he could with his mouth, tongue, hands, to work Harry up until Harry couldn’t help but grind his own length against Louis’. Harry couldn’t believe how turned on he was; Louis had never been with a man before, and yet he somehow knew exactly what Harry needed with each breath. Maybe he it was just that it was Harry. He knew Harry well enough to turn him on, and everything else didn’t matter.

Louis detached their mouths, but made sure to leave every square inch of his body touching Harry’s.

“Help me,” he panted.

“What do you mean?” Harry replied, searching Louis’ eyes for any signs of distress.

“I want to give you everything,” Louis looked away and began fiddling with the necklace on Harry's chest. “But, I don’t, um- I don’t know how. This is a bit new to me.”

Oh. _Everything_. Harry had to squeeze his eyes shut and count backwards from ten until he had collected himself again.

“Lou, we can go slow,” Harry practically pleaded with Louis to make him understand.

Louis groaned and smashed his face in Harry’s chest. “No, I want you.” He sounded just as desperate, but where Harry wanted to go slow, Louis was more than ready. To drive his point home, Louis took the lead and shifted against where Harry was aching. “Please.”

Harry’s tenuous grasp of his control snapped, and Louis must have been able to sense it because he leaned back into Harry’s space with much more intent than he had before. Harry could feel him everywhere, all of his senses were surrounded by Louis.

The taste of his skin, the way he smelled like Harry’s laundry detergent from having slept in Harry’s bed all night, his hands roamed all over Harry’s body, and Harry could heard the breathy little moans in the back of his throat as they drew impossibly closer together.

Harry managed to work his hands into the waistband of Louis’ joggers and began to shift them down over Louis’ arse. When he got them far enough down, he pushed them out of the way and splayed his hands over Louis’ lower back right at the base of his spine.

Louis groaned, “Hazza, want to feel you fall apart,” before moving his own hand down into the space between their bodies and working Harry’s loose joggers off as well.

They were both naked with nothing but acres of flushed skin and heightened nerve endings.

Harry was ready to try and show Louis what to do without dying in three process. What he wasn’t ready for was Louis confidently taking Harry in hand. As soon as Louis touched him, Harry was arching into the indescribable pleasure and moaning Louis’ name only when he could form coherent thoughts.

Never one to settle in complacency, Louis aligned himself with Harry, and just managed to get his hand around both of them at the same time. Between Louis’ fingers and the slide of their skin together, Harry reached the brink in no time at all. He barely had a chance to warn Louis before his brain shorted out and the world flashed a brilliant white behind his eyelids.

Quickly after that, Louis gave a hoarse shout as Harry felt him spill across his abdomen.

Louis wasn’t able to hold his own weight anymore and collapse onto Harry’s chest, tucking his face into Harry’s neck, his breath damp against Harry’s skin. Louis reached a hand up to tangle in Harry’s curls again; he seemed unable to resist that, Harry thought with as much of a smile as he could muster.

Harry circled his arms around Louis’ back drawing him into a hug. They laid that way for awhile, and Harry noticed that at some point the sun had fully risen and bathed his bedroom in light. He wasn’t sure what to say, not wanting to get in the way of Louis’ thoughts that he could practically see were spinning.

“It makes a difference,” Louis murmured, but Harry could only vaguely hear him.

“What, Lou?”

“Everyone was right, it does make a difference doing that with the right person,” he said more clearly this time.

“Yeah, it does,” Harry replied drawing Louis’ face up for a kiss.

Harry still didn’t know what the future held, but after so many years of trying to quell his feelings and keep a lid on jealousy, he made the decision to let himself enjoy being with Louis moment by moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find the fic post [here](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com/post/167269898266/waiting-for-wonderful-by-quickedween-135k-m).


End file.
